Zucco's Revenge
by AJCrane
Summary: Synopsis: Boss Tony Zucco escapes from prison on his last day on Death Row. His only thought is on the boy who got away. Charactors: Bruce Batman Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard Dick-Robin Grayson, Tony Zucco, Mr. Sharp, Commissioner Gordon, Police Chief O'Hara, and others. Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't do this for money. I do this out of love for Batman.
1. Chapter 1

Zucco's Revenge

Prologue: 18 Months

Tony Zucco smiled, a smile that unnerved the guards. He had a secret, and tonight was the night everything would change.

"What are you grinning at?" the Guard asked.

Zucco didn't answer. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"It's your last night on this Earth, Zucco. And that's your last cigarette. You better enjoy it."

"I get a last meal, don't I?"

"It's coming. You want a priest?"

"What for?"

"So your soul will be cleansed when you meet your maker."

"That's for sinners, guard. I'm just an honest business man trying to do business."

'Honest, you? Sorry Zucco. The only business you're doing is dying."

The guard turned when he heard the meal cart arriving. Death Row prisoners were allowed to eat their last meal in their cells. "It's your last meal, Zucco. You better enjoy every bite because I'm going to enjoy watching you fry."

The guard opened the door and allowed the attendant in. As the cart was wheeled in, the attendant pulled out a gun and waved the guard inside. A single muffled shot silenced the guard forever. Thirty minutes later, the meal eaten to avoid suspicion, the guard and the attendant with the cart left Tony Zucco's cell. The guard shut the cell door, still smiling. The guard led the meal attendant through the maze of corridors and back out to the main gate. The guard waved to the gate attendant and the door was released. Both moved outside and down the road to a waiting van. The cart was pushed inside and both climbed into the back. The van sped away from the prison into the night.

Things were looking up, and the first part of his plan had been brought to a conclusion. Now for the second part of his plan. 'Once that one is complete,' he thought. 'No one will be able to touch me. Not even Batman.'

Once inside the van, Zucco removed the guard's uniform and changed into the clothes that were provided.

"I've got a place you can hide out. Once they discover you're gone, their going to send out every cop they can find, and they may even inform Batman."

"Let them. I don't care. The one person I want is that kid. You did get what I want?"

"Sure did. I took the folder just like you asked."

"Let me see it."

Zucco's associate handed over the folder and Zucco scrutinized its contents.

"Good, we can work with this. Sharp, get ready to play the role of a life-time."

"What about my money?"

"You'll get it. After I get the kid. Now, here's what we're going to do."

Continues with Part 1: The Patter of Younger Feet


	2. Chapter 2

Zucco's Revenge

Part 1: The Patter of Younger Feet

Bruce Wayne wasn't use to hearing the sound of running feet down the hall leading to the study, despite the fact that his ward had been with him for almost two years. Dick Grayson burst in, exuberant as ever.

"Are we going to train today?" Dick asked, his face beaming.

"Not today, Dick," Bruce sighed. "I've got all this paperwork. The Board of Trustees at the Wayne Foundation need these tax records to show our non-profit status."

"Oh," Dick said, disappointed.

Bruce could clearly hear that Dick was lonely and needed company. Bruce looked down at the paperwork that had yet to be completed. "You know, this would go a lot faster if I plug these figures into the bat computer. I can then fill out these forms in record time. You could help me and get a little lesson on how the bat computer works."

"Can we do some sparring afterward?" Dick asked, eagerly.

"Sure, might clear the cobwebs out," Bruce replied. "Let me gather this paperwork and we'll . . ."

"Master Bruce," Alfred came into the study. "You have a visitor, sir."

"A visitor?"

"He's waiting in the living room."

"Did he say who he represented?" Bruce asked.

Alfred handed Bruce the card that lay on a small silver tray.

"Oh, I totally forgot. It's been almost two years. I don't recognize the name."

"You do not want to keep him waiting," Alfred said.

"You're right. Tell the gentleman I'll be out in a moment."

Dick waited patiently before asking his question. "Who is it Bruce?"

Bruce debated with himself on whether to tell Dick, but thought it was best to tell him the truth.

"The man is from Child Protective Services." Bruce could visibly see Dick stiffen. "I wouldn't worry needlessly. Here, why don't you take these and I'll meet you down in the batcave."

"Okay," Dick replied. "You will tell me, won't you?"

"Of course I will. I won't be long."

Bruce exited the study, shutting the door so no one would see Dick using the secret entrance to the batcave. He entered the living room and saw a man in a dark suit scrutinizing the painting above the fire place.

"Mr. Sharp, I'm Bruce Wayne. May I help you?"

Mr. Sharp turned. He had a look of disdain on his face. "Mr. Wayne, I understand you are Richard Grayson's guardian?"

"Yes, for nearly two years."

"There are no other family members?"

"There is a Harriet Cooper. I understand she is Richard Grayson's Aunt or I should say Great Aunt."

"Is she living here?" Mr. Sharp asked.

"Not at the moment," Bruce answered. "Her husband is in hospice care and it would be unfair for her to take care of a child along with her husband. I've written to her about her nephew, asking her permission to remain as Dick's guardian and invited her to live with us."

"Why wasn't the boy sent to his Aunt two years ago?"

"I was not aware that he had any living relatives until two months ago, and he has only been in my care officially for the past year."

"You petitioned to adopt the boy, but were denied, yet you are his guardian," Mr sharp continued as if he had not heard Bruce speaking.

"Mr. Sharp, what is your point?" Bruce asked.

"Mr. Wayne, when your petition to adopt the boy was denied, you should not have been allowed guardianship as well. You've had the boy for almost two years without a woman in the home, and your reputation as a playboy isn't a healthy environment for a boy his age."

"Mr. Sharp, I have sworn letters from Commissioner Gordon, Judge Hendricks, and Richard Grayson's former social worker that the home I have provided for Richard is of the most secure."

"I don't care if you have a sworn letter from Batman. I am taking the boy today."

"What gives you the right?"

"This," Mr. Sharp pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Bruce Wayne.

Bruce opened the paper and carefully read the court order. The signature wasn't from Judge Hendricks. He was not familiar with the name of the judge. Bruce received guardianship at the time before he learned that Dick Grayson had any living relatives. It only came to light recently, and now someone was trying to rescind that court order, all because there wasn't a woman in the house. What were they thinking he was going to do?

Then a thought occurred to him that hadn't before, and rage filled his eyes. How dare they. He would never harm a hair on that boy. It was outrageous to even consider the notion. Over the past year he had grown to care deeply for Dick, as if he was his own son, but the order stood. It was a legal document, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"NO! I won't go!" Dick shouted near the stairs. He must have heard every word. 'He must have come from the batcave wondering why I hadn't arrived,' Bruce thought.

"Dick," Bruce could see that Dick was angry and upset over what had been said. He saw Dick race up the stairs, heading to his room.

"Let me talk to him," Bruce said.

"I can't allow you to be alone with the boy," Sharp said.

"This is still my home, Mr. Sharp," Bruce pointed out. "And you will not dictate what I can or cannot do in it. You may wait in the hall."

Bruce slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor and head to Dick's room. He knocked on the door, but did not get an answer.

"Dick, please, it's me. Open the door."

Bruce heard the shuffling of noises and figured he better enter whether Dick wanted him to or not. He was surprised to see Dick packing a bag, but not the kind of bag he expected. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder. Dick headed to the window.

"Don't try to stop me," Dick said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bruce replied. Look, I don't like this any more than you do. If you run away, it's not going to help."

"I'll hide out in the batcave," Dick argued.

"And have everyone suspect Dick Grayson is really Robin when Dick Grayson and Robin both disappear at the same time?"

"I . . . I haven't thought of that."

"I know you don't want to go with Mr. Sharp . . ."

"You bet I don't," Dick interrupted.

"Look, we don't have a choice, but I'll do everything in my power to get you back. We have to work with the system on this one, Old Chum."

"I know Bruce. I just don't like it."

"Come on, I'll help you pack . . . a larger suit case."

"Wait," Dick grabbed his small bat transmitter and placed it in his backpack. "I have my Robin costume in case you need me I know you can't come and get me as Batman, but I might be able to meet you somewhere."

"I'm hoping this will take no more than a few days, but just in case . . ." Bruce nearly choked up on the last words. He hadn't realized just how much this cocky 11 year old had worked his way into his heart. 'I'll . . . I'll meet you downstairs."

Bruce waited for Dick in the living room with Mr. Sharp. No one said a word when Dick came into the room carrying a suitcase and backpack. Before anyone could say goodbye, Mr. Sharp was grabbing Dick by the arm and leading him outside.

"Master Bruce, why is that man taking Master Dick?"

Bruce did not say another word, but handed Alfred the document from Mr. Sharp. He moved to the fireplace and rested his hands on the mantle and buried his head, trying desperately to hide the tears. The house suddenly felt more empty, cold. He was all ready missing the patter of Dick's feet on the marble floors. He never expected to have such feeling for a child that wasn't his own. Dick had worked his way into his heart, not just for the reason that both experienced a terrible loss beyond imagining, but because each needed the other without knowing it, and that was totally unexpected. Not only that, he would no longer have Robin to help him.

Over the past 18 months, that kid had helped him solve more crimes than he did when he was alone. And now even that had been taken from him. It just wasn't fair. He vowed at that moment, "I'll get you back, somehow. I swear on my life as a crime fighter. I will bring you home."

Continues with Part 2: On the Edge of Nowhere


	3. Chapter 3

Zucco's Revenge

Part 2: On the Edge of Nowhere

Dick Grayson climbed in the backseat of Mr. Sharp's car. He placed his backpack and suitcase beside him. Before Dick could settle into the seat, Mr. Sharp was gunning the car out of the long driveway to the highway and Gotham City.

'Jerk,' Dick thought. 'He's sure in a hurry to get me away from Bruce.' That thought nearly undid Dick. He had not cried since the loss of his parents. 'Since they were murdered,' he corrected. Being taken away from two homes, first the circus, now from Bruce felt like another loss. 'Bruce did say he would do whatever he could to get me back, to bring me home.' While Dick was looking out the window, he noticed something odd about the car door. He checked the other door and it was the same way. There were no door handles, and yet Mr. Sharp had opened the door from the outside. Dick then noticed other things about the car. There were no seatbelts, and it looked like there used to be a cage-like grate that divided the front and the back seat.

"Did this used to be a police car?" Dick asked. "And why aren't there door handles on the inside?"

"It's to prevent curious and snot nosed kids like you from falling out of cars," Mr. Sharp answered, annoyed that he had to play chauffer to this brat.

'Didn't even answer my first question,' Dick thought. 'Probably was a police cruiser, but why go to all that trouble to hide it and not add door handles?' Rather than risk another disrespectful reply, Dick asked, "Where are we going?" It was a legitimate question that he hoped Mr. Sharp would answer without being so negative.

"You'll be staying with a couple until arrangements can be made for your . . . future."

Well, at least he wasn't being taken to some institution, but at the same time it was going to be difficult for him to do his duties as Robin. Batman might need him, but he can't tell anyone about it because they might learn Bruce Wayne's secret identity. He was going to have to keep his costume a secret, and that wasn't going to be easy.

Dick watched as they drove through Gotham City to an area of town that was less than questionable. The house they pulled up to looked old and run down. It looked like it could be blown over in a storm. The paint was peeling and there were bars on the windows. An old theater was across the street, its sign above was broken and there was paint sprayed all over, some of it words that no one should repeat.

Dick didn't want to leave the car. Not that he was afraid, he wanted to go back home to Wayne Manor, but with Mr. Sharp tapping his foot impatiently, he thought it was best not to keep him waiting. They walked up to the front porch, Dick dragging his feet and his suitcase behind him.

"Get a move on, I don't have all day," Mr. Sharp stated impatiently, as if he had an appointment to keep.

Dick nearly flinched when Mr. Sharp knocked loudly on the door. It wasn't a gentle knock, more like an impatient pounding.

"What is it? We're not open yet," a man's voice shouted out, until he moved the curtain aside from the small broken window and his eyes grew wide when he discovered whom it was rapping on his doorframe.

"I have him," Sharp said under his breath, then cleared his throat. "I am Mr. Sharp. This is Richard Grayson, the boy I spoke to you about."

"Oh, uh, come in both of you," the man stated, changing his tune, trying to sound more like a gentlman.

"Is your . . . wife at home?"

"Wife? Oh yeah . . . she's in the kitchen. Molly, Mr. Sharp is here . . . with the boy."

Dick suddenly paid attention to the exchange. Something felt odd about it, as if they were expecting him specifically, but that couldn't be right. He never met the couple. Dick also noticed that the man was unshaven and he had a lot of tattoos on his bare arms and the undershirt he wore was stained. He didn't think they were from grease. Dick observed when a very slight woman emerged from the kitchen, she behaved timidly and nervous as a cat, as if she was scared of someone, her husband? If that's who this man really was, Dick doubted it. There was no wedding ring on either of their hands. Dick's eyes narrowed when he grabbed 'his wife' roughly around the waist and pulled her close.

"Come on honey, meet our new boy."

"Well, I'll leave you here to get acquainted," Mr. Sharp said, but the words didn't sound all that sincere. He also appeared to not like the situation. He knew something that Dick was missing.

"Well, come on in boy. We won't bite," the man said with a crocodile grin. "Mr. Sharp said your name's Dick Grayson. Well, we hope to change that soon, don't we Molly."

Molly didn't answer, and Dick noticed she was afraid of him. Dick made a mental note to have Batman check this guy out.

'Um, what did you say your name was?" Dick asked, acting a little more timid than he felt. His alarm bells were going off. He knew a con artist when he met one from his days at the circus. He learned how to spot them on the Midway. When he and his parents weren't performing their trapeze act, they were running one of the rides or one of the games. A few times someone would come in and try to sucker the customers playing the games. Dick's dad, John Grayson learned to spot the good ones from the bad. He taught Dick what to look for and had him inform Pop Haley. And this guy, the way he chose his words and the body language he was showing told Dick the man was no good. And the woman may not even be his wife. She gave him a look that spoke volumes, but what that was, Dick would have to find a way to get it out of her then inform Batman. Somehow, he knew this woman was in trouble, and he might very well be in the same trouble.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. Name's Victor Crumb. After all, you're going to be with us for a long time . . . a very long time." The man gave Dick that crocodile grin once more. He turned to Molly and stated. "Show the boy to his room. I'm going out for a while."

"Which room with that be?" Molly asked, her voice meek and timid, as if she wasn't allowed to say very much.

"The first floor, in the back. After all, he's ours . . . for now. We don't want his tender ears to be shocked by our other guests."

'Or be seen by them," Dick added. Just where was he and why did Mr. Sharp think this couple wanted to adopt a boy, and not any boy, but Dick Grayson.

Continues with Part 3: A Sharpened Knife


	4. Chapter 4

Zucco's Revenge

Part 3: A Sharpened Knife

Mr. Sharp left the house and drove to another part of Gotham City, this time in one of the most opulent neighborhoods. Despite its manicured lawns and well-kept houses, there was one house that didn't seem to measure up to the rest. On the outside it had that picture perfect look, but on the inside, not everything was rosy.

Mr. Sharp pulled his car into the driveway and walked into the house. Inside was just as immaculate. It made you wonder how a person from Child Protective Services could afford such a place on the kind of salary he was making. It would seem that Mr. Sharp had expensive taste, and yet the vehicle he drove was just as Dick had surmised. It had been a defunct police vehicle, a vehicle that had been stolen from another city, redressed and sold to unsuspecting customers. Mr. Sharp, however, was not unsuspecting with the line of work he would often be hired to do. He knew exactly what he drove and he took full advantage of it. Mr. Sharp was not what he seemed to be.

"You got the goods?" Someone bellowed at him from the dining room, his mouth full of food. "You're living pretty high on the hog. At least this food is better than the stuff they were serving in the State Pen."

"The goods, as you put it, have been delivered. Mr. Wayne fell for the bait."

"Do you think he'll inform Batman?" The not-so-round Tony Zucco sat at the table eating a large Prime Rib smothered in gravy with a side of mashed potatoes and biscuits. He lost much of the weight during his incarceration, and it was as if he was trying to put it all back on in one night.

"Don't know. That paper you had me give him looked pretty genuine."

"All part of my master plan. The more real something looks, the less likely someone will de any snooping," Zucco said.

"When do you plan on bumping off the kid?" Mr. Sharp asked as he sharpened a knife that had been sitting on the counter.

"Not for a week, maybe two. Got to make it look real remember. Better tell Victor not to let any of his special customers near the kid, at least not yet. When the time comes I'll let you know. I have a special place in mind. Some place where they can have their fun and he'll be performing his last act as the only Flying Grayson."

"What's the rest of your plan Zucco?"

"Sorry Sharp, I'm keeping this close to my vest. One part at a time. Just in case, I'll not let Batman get wind of what's going on."

Sharp didn't quibble. He knew Zucco meant business, but at the same time, he didn't want to get on Zucco's bad side. Despite everything, Zucco did manage to pay him well, but how long could he live this way? Someone was bound to get suspicious. And this plan just didn't seem right. What if the kid somehow managed to get word that it was all a setup? No, he did not like it at all.

"Listen carefully," Zucco stated. "In a week's time you're going to check on the kid, just like any social worker. But before that you're going to deliver a letter to Mr. Bruce Wayne, outlining what it is we expect him to do and if he doesn't deliver, we'll produce some pretty damning evidence that will put him behind bars."

"How are you going to do that?" Sharp asked.

"You leave that to me," Zucco said. "It will be the nail in Batman's coffin because, he's going to do the one thing he won't like doing, arresting Bruce Wayne."

Dick was taken to the back of the house. The room he was shown didn't look like any average bedroom. There was no real bed, just a settee and a wide table. There wasn't even a dresser to put his clothes. The walls and ceiling were covered in what looked like a heavy fabric. Dick looked around and found the window. It had iron bars on the outside. There wasn't any way he was going to be able to leave that way. There had to be another way out. There wasn't even a fireplace, just an old fashion gas heater. When Dick tried the door, he discovered it was locked, but who would go to such lengths to make it look like the court changed their minds on Bruce becoming his guardian?

'Looks like its up to me to find out. I need to explore this room further, see if there could be another way out, but I'm not seeing it.'

Dick remembered the lesson that Batman was teaching him, explore all options then decide on what was the best course. Then Dick realized he was missing something, and swallowed hard for his mistake.

'I left my backpack in Mr. Sharp's car. It has my costume and my bat radio transmitter. I just hope Sharp doesn't open it if he finds it.'

Trying not to think about his mistake, Dick explored the walls of his room further, and discovered another door. It led into a bathroom with no windows. It did have an air vent, but it wasn't large enough to crawl through.

'Holy hostage situation. Looks like I'm really in the soup now. I can't contact Batman and I bet they won't even let me talk to Bruce. I'm trapped in a room with bars on the windows . . . Wait, the bars are on the outside. There just may be a chance.'

Dick went to his suitcase and opened it to the inside. There was a zippered pouch inside the lid. The last time he used this suitcase was when he packed a bunch of things when he left the circus. There had to be something in that pouch. He found what he was looking for, a tablet of paper. In his jacket pocket he found a pen. Writing a note on a sheet of paper, he tore another sheet and folded both sheets into an airplane in the shape of a dart. He hoped the two sheets of paper would make the plane heavier so it would fly farther. He went to the window, opened it and taking careful aim. He tossed the plane into the air. It caught the air current just right and sent it sailing across the yard and over the back fence.

He set up another note and airplane and sent that one sailing in another direction, into the side yard of the house next door. On the other side was a commercial building with an alley between. He decided to take his chances and see if he could set the airplane to fly and land as close to the side door as possible. Unfortunately, his plane fell short and it landed smack dab in the middle of the alley. The wind blew the plane further up the alley and away from the street. That was the best he was going to do, short of dropping bread crumbs in the street. The only other thing he could do was tie a flag to the bars to alert anyone else that he was here. For now, he would have to wait. And hoped that someone found one of his messages and call for help. He had this very distinct feeling that no matter what he did, Batman may be too late.

Part 4: Deceit Uncovered


	5. Chapter 5

Zucco's Revenge

Part 4: Deceit Uncovered

Mr. Zucco," Sharp said. "I may be risking a wrap in the mouth, but I think a week is too long."

"You do," Zucco replied, none to pleased that Sharp would question his plans. "How long do you think I should wait?"

"I think you should kill the kid and blame it on Wayne. Make it even look like Wayne murdered the kid."

"It's a little late for that now," Zucco pointed out. "Wayne has your business card, and he has the paper you made up. If anything, you're up to your neck in this more than I am. I'm just a wanted fugitive hiding out from the cops. You starten' to get scared?"

"I'm just worried that Wayne will find out that . . ."

"That the paper's phony? So what if he finds out. He won't be able to find the kid. We've got him locked up, and he won't be going anywhere."

"I hear Wayne's a smart one. What if Batman finds out? What if he tells him and shows him that paper?"

"You thinking about squealing? Let me put your fears to rest then," Zucco pulled out a gun.

"Zucco, no, please, I didn't mean . . ." BANG!

Zucco watched as Sharp fell on the floor. To bad about Sharp, he had his uses, but he should have stuck to black mail and extortion. At least he got the Grayson kid out from under Wayne. Sharp though might have been right about one thing. A week was too long to hold onto the kid. And Wayne may very well discover that the papers were phony. 'Well let him.' he thought. 'The kid is in my hands or Victor Crumb's hands for now. Looks like I'm going to pay them a little visit.'

"Master Bruce, you are going to do something about this."

'I don't know if I can, Alfred. The document looks legal as my father's law books."

Alfred picked up Mr. Sharp's card. He only glanced at it earlier when he placed it on the servo to give to Bruce. Now he scrutinized it carefully. 'Hmmm, since when does someone only give their last name on a calling card?' Alfred decided it was time to take action. "Sir, you must look at this."

"The man's card. What about it?"

"Don't you find something peculiar about it?"

Bruce took the card and studied it. Child Protective Services . . . wait a moment. "Child Protective Services is located at Gotham's Government Building on Grant Street."

"There could be a branch office," Alfred said.

"Hardly. It's not that large an agency. And this telephone number doesn't exist, I'm sure of it. And why would someone from the CPS come after eighteen months. It was just six months ago that I spoke with Miss Clarkson, Dick's social worker. Alfred, get me the phone and bring it in here."

Alfred did as Bruce requested, satisfied that Bruce was finally doing something about Dick. He had been sulking a good two hours since Dick left with Mr. Sharp, and it did not seem right. After plugging the phone into a nearby wall jack, Alfred left to complete some other duties while Bruce dialed the number that he knew was correct.

"Child Protective Services, may I help you?"

"This is Bruce Wayne. May I speak to a Mr. Sharp."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sharp no longer works for us. He left without leaving a notice."

"When was that?"

"Just last week."

"Curious," Bruce said. "May I speak to Miss Clarkson."

"Right away, sir. Let me connect you."

Bruce waited for a moment and after the third ring, the voice of Kelly Clarkson answered the phone.

"Miss Clarkson speaking."

"Miss Clarkson, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Oh, Richard Grayson's guardian. We spoke six months ago. Is something wrong?"

Bruce explained the situation, "What I need to know is how this Mr. Sharp knew about Richard's case?"

"Normally, when we're satisfied with a child's home life is going well, the file is closed. Let me check something."

The phone went silent for a few more moments then Bruce heard in the background . . ."Are you sure? How could it disappear? That room is locked." It was still a few moments when Miss Clarkson returned.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Wayne, but the file on Richard Grayson has been stolen."

"Stolen, who would do such a thing?" Though Bruce suspected just who had stolen the file.

Alfred at that moment cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but it's Mr. Red. He's waiting in the study."

Bruce and Alfred worked up several code words whenever Bruce was speaking to someone else so they would not suspect or discover Bruce's secret identity.

"I'll be right there. I apologize Miss Clarkson. Why don't you inform the police, let them know what you've un-covered. Someone is interested in my ward and I better see what I can do on my end. Thank you."

Bruce hung up the phone in the living room and headed to the study.

"Yes, Captain, Gordon."

"Batman, thank goodness. We have a problem. I know you're new to our police procedures and this is also new to us, but I thought after all, you were involved . . ."

"Please, Captain, state what it is you need. Time may be at the essence."

"I'm embarrassed to say. They searched for several days and haven't found a trace of him, and not only that a guard was murdered."

"Couldn't find who, Captain Gordon."

"Tony Zucco."

"Wasn't his execution supposed to happen last week?"

"It was, but somehow he escaped and we've not been able to find any trace of him. They did find one thing, a slip of paper. I don't dare call Bruce Wayne on this. I don't want to worry him needlessly."

"What was written on the paper?"

"Kill Grayson."

"I'll find Tony Zucco," Batman said, without trying to betray what he felt. The thought of Dick in Zucco's hands caused his blood to run cold.

"I knew I could count on you."

After hanging up the phone, Bruce turned to Alfred. "You better prepare yourself for a shock. Dick is in real danger, Alfred. I just hope I'm not too late to save him."

Part 5: Circus Memorie


	6. Chapter 6

Zucco's Revenge

Part 5: Circuses Memories

Bruce rushed to the bat poles and slid into the batcave, changing into his costume and becoming Batman. It would do little good to see Commissioner Gordon or go to the prison to search for clues. His best bet would be to see of he can track down Dick by honing in on his bat radio transmitter, or his bat homing device in his utility belt.

"Did I hear right," Alfred asked after he made it down to the batcave. "Boss Zucco has escaped?"

"I had hoped to reason with the Judge that rescinded the court's decision, but hearing about Zucco, and the fact that Dick's file had been stolen from Child Protective Services, I doubt that the Judge in this case was real. If I had examined that document further, Dick may not have been taken."

"You had no way of knowing that the order wasn't real."

"I went against my instincts, Alfred. Now Dick could be paying the price."

Batman turned on the bat-tracking device and located Dick's bat radio and got a steady blip on the bat radar. "Check those coordinates." Batman wrote them down and handed them to Alfred.

"These look like they are in the Gladstone area of Gotham City."

"Some of Gotham's social elite live in that area. What would Dick be doing there?"

"Perhaps Mr. Sharp has placed him with another wealthy family," Alfred suggested.

"I highly doubt that." Batman said with distain. "Mr. Sharp is not with the CPS any more. He left a week ago."

"So how did he know so much about Master Richard?" Alfred asked.

"I think I know how," Batman surmised and he didn't like what he was suspecting. "Get me that exact address. I'm going to head over there and see what I can find. " Batman checked his utility belt and added a few special items he just might need.

"Here," Alfred handed Batman the address. "Do be careful, Sir. And bring Master Dick home."

"I will Alfred." Batman raced to the batmobile and was quickly on his way to Gotham City.

Dick Grayson fell asleep after sending out several more paper airplanes. There wasn't much else to do in the room and his stomach was letting him he was hungry. He didn't even know how much time had passed. His mind drifted back to his days in the circus, eighteen months before. He'd forgotten it was also his premier performance.

"Ladies and gentleman, children of all ages! We present to you a thrill of a lifetime! A death-defying act, working without a net, the Flying Graysons. And for his premier performance, their son, Richard Grayson. He will attempt to do the impossible, the quadruple summersault!"

The memories continued replaying that fateful day. He remembered doing the summersault and doing it perfectly. He had done them hundreds of times in rehearsals, using a safety harness just in case. His mother caught him that day, acting as catcher. Then it was his father's turn and a hush fell over the crowd. His father's specialty was the triple summersault through a center ring. The first summersault would happen before the ring, the second as he passed through, and the third on the other side, ending with a spectacular catch by Dick's mother.

Something stirred within Dick, a warning that something wasn't right. The memory played out its horrific event with his mother making the catch and the trapeze ropes breaking, higher up from the rigging. "NOOO!" Dick cried out, his eyes not able to look away as his parents fell to the sawdust covered floor of the arena, still clasping each other's hands.

The memory of hearing the voice, threatening Pop Haley, that there would be an accident if he didn't pay Boss Zucco's price. Boss Zucco was in jail though, why should he be having these memories now?

"Wake up Dicky boy." It was the same voice. "We're going for a little ride."

Dick's eyes snapped open just as he was being grabbed and his mouth was being gagged.

"It's a good think you noticed those paper airplanes in the alley, Victor, or all our plans might have been spoiled. We've got a nice surprise for this little bird. Though he ain't Batman's new side kick. He'll do just fine. Besides, the accident should have taken three lives that night. And you, Dicky my boy, are wanted at a private performance."

"What will happen after, Boss?" Victor asked.

"I'm sure Mr. Wayne won't mind if he turns controlling interest of Wayne Foundation over to me, just so no one else gets hurt."

Dick struggled against the ropes that bound his arms. There was nothing he could do.

"Throw him in the back of Sharp's car. I borrowed it for the occasion. Even if he does manage to get out of those ropes, he won't get out of the car. Nice of the police to provide us with the perfect transportation. Remind me to send a few thank you notes with their usual payments."

Dick nearly blacked out as his head hit the opposite door from being shoved into Sharp's car. It was a stroke of luck. His backpack was still on the floor, hidden from view. If only he could reach it and grab his utility belt to press his homing device. He had very little time. Both Victor and Zucco were climbing into the front seat.

Dick squirmed around until his hands could reach his backpack. He was nearly jostled loose when they went over some rough terrain. He almost fell between the back seat and the front. Suddenly, Victor slammed on the breaks, and Dick tumbled onto the floor and right on top of his backpack.

"What are you stopping for?" Zucco questioned.

"What if the cops see the kid?"

"Throw a blanket over him. There's one in the trunk."

Next thing Dick knew a heavy blanket was thrown over him while he was still wedged between the seats. It was the break he needed to get to his utility belt without being seen. His hands were in the right position to work the zipper. Despite his aching arms, Dick managed to loosen the zipper and slide the pouch open far enough to reach inside. It wasn't easy searching for his utility belt blind. Working the metal clasp on the belt buckle was even trickier. All he needed to do was turn the knob to activate the homing device. He just accomplished it when they abruptly stopped again. He barely had time to re-close the zipper on his backpack when the blanket was thrown aside and he was being dragged from the car. Dick kicked out trying to make some space between him and his assailants. He managed to get out of the car and on his feet. He tried to run for the wooded area surrounding the arena, but he was swiftly tackled.

"Oh no you don't."

Victor struck Dick in the face and he suddenly blacked out, remembering nothing more.

Continues with Part 6: High Flying Grayson


	7. Chapter 7

Zucco's Revenge

Part 6: High Flying Grayson

"Wakey, wakey. It's time for your performance."

Dick Grayson felt groggy and a little nauseated. The ringing in his hears wouldn't stop. He also felt himself swaying and his arms were pulled over his head. He opened his eyes and saw his arms were tied to a trapeze bar and he was at least 15 feet in the air maybe twenty. He realized he was high enough if he fell he could get seriously hurt, but not high enough to kill him. Trapeze artists worked from a height of 30 to 40 feet. If Zucco had done his homework, he would have known that. Apparently he didn't, but he probably had something else in mind.

"So, I heard they called you the boy wonder because of that quadruple summersault of yours. Let me see what you can do."

"I can't with my hands tied, and I need someone to catch me," Dick responded.

"Oh no, you don't get a catcher," Zucco said. "I want to see you do it all by yourself."

"And if I don't?" Dick questioned.

A shot rang out and Dick looked up to see that one of the trapeze ropes had been nicked. This guy meant business. The first thing he needed to do was work his hands free. He had to get the trapeze to swinging. Observing where he was Dick got an idea. Even so, if Zucco's game was to shoot the ropes and have them snap, Dick had better prepare to do the most daring trick in his life just to stay alive.

On his way to Gotham city, the homing beacon started peeping and an arrow showed the direction where the transmission was coming from.

"That's Dick's homing transmitter. He must have activated it."

Batman was quickly changing direction as he noticed the arrow was pointing northwest of the city, away from the Gladstone area. That part of the city had a large arena, the very same arena where the Haly Circus had played one year after Dick's parents were killed.

"What would he be doing there?" Batman thought for a moment. Once again, he got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. 'No! I am not going to allow it to happen again.'

It took 10 minutes for Batman to arrive at the arena. He followed the beeping through the parking area and came upon Sharp's car. The arrow indicated that the beeping was coming from the car. Batman approached it with caution, but there was no one inside. Then he spotted Dick's backpack on the floor of the back seat. The car door was open so he grabbed the backpack and placed it in the batmobile knowing full well what that backpack contained. It was then he heard the gunshot and he raced to the arena. Inside he spotted Zucco aiming at something high in the air. His eyes were drawn upward.

'Great Scott! Dick!'' Batman tried to keep from shouting out loud. He did not want to draw Zucco's attention away from Dick. At lease he had the element of surprise.

Batman watched as Dick got the trapeze moving, even though he could see Dick's hands were tied. He continued to swing buying time. Batman looked around until he saw what Dick's plan might be. It was a risky move, but Batman had to smile at the boy's ingenuity. Only a true trapeze artist would know hot to handle the situation. And Dick had continued to practice down in the batcave so he would not lose those skills, even teaching Batman a thing or two. Still, Batman observed that Zucco watched greedily, hoping that Dick might make a mistake. While Zucco's eyes were on Dick, Batman realized it was the perfect opportunity to move in position.

Dick started kicking out his legs. He remembered how his father would start the trapeze swinging when he would be hanging from it, but that was as the catcher. Though Dick wasn't strong enough to act in that capacity, training to be a catcher was part of becoming a trapeze artist. And John Grayson had been teaching Dick how to swing a stationary trapeze before the "accident." While he swung, he stretched out his body just as he was taught, his body remembering every movement. The more gravity pulled on his body, and his arms pulled against the ropes, the loser the ropes got around his arms and wrists. As he flew higher, Dick turned his head and his eyes caught movement from below. He wasn't quite sure who it might be, but he didn't want to give that person away if he was correct in surmising just who it was.

"Get on with it, kid. I want to see you try to make that summersault." Zucco turned toward Victor. "When he takes off, start shooting."

'So would I,' though Batman's thought was based on faith in Dick's abilities.

With sudden precision, Dick hurled himself upward, his hands slipping out of his bonds and off the bar. Before Zucco could react, Dick's momentum was carrying him more upward than out. He tucked himself into a ball and continued tumbling upward. His spin reached a rotation not just four, but five flips, up toward the darkness. Then he reached and his hands grasped what he sought, the beams of the roof. His momentum had carried him another 20 feet into the rafters.

"He's escaping! I knew we should have started our target practice sooner." Both men pulled out their guns and started firing. And that's when Batman went into action. With Batman's momentum, he plowed into Victor Crumb and sent him tumbling down to the arena floor. Tony Zucco dashed off, bent on going after Dick Grayson.

Once reaching the safety of the rafters, it was then that Dick noticed the stinging in his right thigh. One of Tony Zucco's bullets grazed him. The wound was bad enough that it would probably leave a scar, and the blood coming from it, he wasn't sure if the bullet had grazed a vein or artery. It was bleeding profusely, but Dick couldn't allow himself to slow down, not now.

Zucco continued after Dick, firing his gun into the rafters, but not hitting anything. He finally found a ladder leading upward. Batman was still fighting with Victor Crumb, until Batman struck him squarely on the jaw and dropped Crumb where he stood.

Dick knew he couldn't stay in the rafters for long, but right now he had no choice. Tony Zucco was climbing onto the catwalk and Dick could soon be a sitting duck. Rather than call out to Batman, Dick did his best to move along the girders, putting them between him and the bullets.

Then no more bullets came and Tony Zucco's gun was empty. The last bullet left the chamber just as Batman's batagrang came out of the darkness.

"It's over Zucco! Give yourself up!" Batman called out.

"Never!" Zucco shouted as he raced across the catwalk, but Tony Zucco miscalculated. He tripped on a bent portion of the structure that had yet to be replaced. Trying to catch himself, Tony Zucco missed and fell. His body landed hard among the seats, breaking his back and neck. The executioner caught up to Tony Zucco. Victor Crumb was still unconscious, but Batman made certain he wasn't going anywhere.

"Dick," Batman shouted. "It's over. You can come down now."

"I don't think I can. I'm not scared . . . It's my right thigh . . ." Dick could feel his energy waning. He hadn't eaten since early this morning. It felt like forever. The wound in his thigh and trying to escape from Zucco had taken its toll. He was beginning to feel dizzy. He felt his knees buckling and his body went limp. As he lost consciousness, he felt himself slip from the girder.

Continues with Part 7: Home for Good


	8. Chapter 8

Zucco's Revenge

Epilogue: Home for Good

Batman could see that something was wrong. He was instantly reacting as Dick Grayson slipped off the girder and heading toward an instant death. Swinging his batarang, it secured itself around another girder. He was just in time, catching Dick in his arms as he swung on his bat rope. He dropped to the floor carrying Dick in his arms.

"Dick, Dick."

Dick didn't respond.

Then Batman remembered that Dick mentioned about his right thigh. Laying Dick on the arena floor, he found the wound to Dick's thigh. His pant leg was soaked with blood. He quickly pulled out a bandage roll from his utility belt and bound Dick's wound. He then picked Dick up in his arms and gently carried him to the batmobile. He then climbed in and called Captain Gordon.

"Captain, it's Batman. You will find Zucco and another of his cohorts at the Gotham Arena."

"Batman, we found a Mr. Sharp dead in his home. He was shot."

"Mr. Sharp was in with Zucco. He helped arrange for Dick Grayson's kidnapping. If you check ballistics, I am certain you will find a match with Zucco's gun. You will need to send for the coroner's wagon. Zucco is dead. And no, I did not kill him. He slipped and fell."

"What about young Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward?" Gordon asked.

Batman looked over at his ward, 'He's safe. I am taking him to a hospital. He was hurt. I have informed Bruce Wayne of the situation. We shall keep in touch, Captain."

Batman drove to Gotham Hospital, pulling into the emergency entrance. He got out of the batmobile and moved to the passenger side. He lifted Dick out of the vehicle and carried him into the emergency room.

"Batman! What are you doing here?"

"Bruce Wayne's ward has been injured, could you please take care of him. I have informed Bruce Wayne of the situation."

"How did he acquire his injury?"

Batman explained how Dick Grayson had been kidnapped and tried to escape, the bullet narrowly missing him. "I could not prevent him from being hurt," Batman said, guilt filling him.

"Don't worry, I'm certain you did your best to protect him. He's young and the wound will heal. We'll take care of him."

"I should go, before he wakes. Bruce Wayne should be here soon to take his ward home."

Batman called Alfred to have him meet him just outside the city limits.

"I need to drive in. You need to take the Batmobile back to the batcave."

"Please, let me know how he is, Master Bruce."

"I will."

Alfred allowed Bruce to change out of his batman costume in the vehicle he provided then handed him the keys. Bruce then watched Alfred climb into the batmobile to return to the batcave. Bruce headed to Gotham Hospital and once inside he asked where he could find Dick Grayson. Dick was placed in a private room.

*Knock, knock*

"Can I come in?" Bruce stuck his head in the door.

"Bruce!" Dick smiled broadly, tears rimming his eyes. "I . . . I thought I'd never see you, again."

Bruce moved over to the bed and sat next to Dick. Dick moved closer as best he could to whisper to Bruce.

"Was that Batman I saw?"

"Yes," Bruce said. "I . . . feel bad that you got hurt. I didn't get there fast enough."

Dick gazed at the bandage that covered the wound to his right thigh. "It's okay, Bruce. You couldn't stop it even if you did. Besides, I've been hurt before. I broke my arm the first time I tried using the trapeze when I was four. This was just a scratch."

"You could have been killed."

"I could have been killed just from being a trapeze artist. I knew what I was doing. It was more of a risk to grab for the rafters. If I had missed, it wouldn't have mattered."

"I keep forgetting you're more than just a kid. You really do know your stuff."

"And the training you've given me also enables me to do more," Dick pointed out.

You're right."

"So, am I going to be going home?"

Bruce gave Dick a very wide smile. "Yes, in fact, it's for good. And Alfred is waiting for us. He'll probably have your favorite meal waiting for you."

Dick gave Bruce the widest grin he could make, "Holy homecoming, I can't wait."

End.


End file.
